Millicent
The case building became our routine over the next week. Late evenings in the office, surrounded by legal documents and evidence files. The professional partnership felt natural, like slipping into comfortable shoes. Sometimes I'd forget to maintain my walls, laughing at Abel's dry observations about pompous allied pack leaders or sharing my own insights about pack politics I'd observed.
"Lord Morrison still thinks women shouldn't be allowed in business meetings," I mentioned while organizing correspondence. "He addresses all your responses to me directly to you instead."
"Lord Morrison is an antiquated fool who's lucky I need his pack's trading routes," Abel replied without looking up. "Feel free to accidentally misfile his next urgent request."
I bit back a smile. This was
